


Affectionate Mistake

by sporadic_obsession



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadic_obsession/pseuds/sporadic_obsession
Summary: "When Dean first heard of 'professional cuddlists', he snorted at the idea that anyone would pay to have a person to hold on to, for a few hours. It seemed like a stupid idea, really... but then he remembered that people paid to have sex with complete strangers, too, and suddenly the cuddling seemed much more honorable than that."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ... why, hello.  
>  It took me a while to work up the courage to write something, and a little other while to come up with the courage to post it. I'm well aware there are much better works out there, but hey, I'm a sucker for firefighter!dean, and I got the idea for cuddlist!castiel from this one video I saw on cuddlists, and just needed to get this done. It's just a cute, fluffy little thing, and I hope it appeals to all your fluffy feelings as it did to mine.  
> Thanks for considering reading this story so far, and, well, I hope you enjoy it!

It started with a simple mistake.

Dean Winchester was not a relationship guy. The longest he'd dated someone was a year, and it was way back on his senior year, in high school. It's not that he couldn't do it, but he simply preferred not to. In his line of work, death was always a risk - what with running into burning buildings, and all - and Dean couldn't bear to do that to someone. That was the reason why Dean hadn't become a firefighter until he was sure his younger brother was living his own life, and didn't need him anymore. That didn't mean he wanted to die, but he'd made peace with it happening, and fully trusted Jess - Sam's fiancé - to take care of his little brother if he went.

The problem was, Dean Winchester is much more of an affectionate guy than his one-night-stands allow him to be. And with Sam all the way in Stanford, and Dean in New York, he couldn't even hug his brother, pretending that it was meant to annoy him, when, in reality, Dean just needed that kind of human contact. Sure, maybe he could go out of his way to hug his best friend more often, but he had a feeling that Charlie would end up telling him to get his head out of his ass and try to date someone. After all, even though she's one of his fellow firefighters, she'd managed to find herself a girlfriend of, now, three years, and hadn't ruined it by almost dying, even if that did happen quite some times.

When Dean first heard of 'professional cuddlists', he snorted at the idea that anyone would pay to have a person to hold on to, for a few hours. It seemed like a stupid idea, really... but then he remembered that people paid to have sex with complete strangers, too, and suddenly the cuddling seemed much more honorable than that. He didn't mean to sign up for it, not really; he'd meant to just look around the website, see what the big rage about it was. The more he looked, however, the less silly it all seemed, and before he could regain his wits, he ended up signing up for a few hours with 'Cassie'. He wasn't sure what the woman would look like, what she'd think of Dean having to pay someone to hug, but that was a problem he wouldn't think about, for now. It was done, and in just three days, he'd find himself outside her door, anyway. She got paid for this, so he could only hope she didn't judge too much.

The three days passed by in a blur of fire and kittens that needed saving, and, when he found himself outside Cassie's door, he looked worse for wear than he'd hoped. He'd even considered not showing up, but the money had already gone through, and he wasn't rich enough to waste it on nothing. Taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, Dean rang the doorbell to the small house he'd been told to go to. He didn't know if it was Cassie's actual residence, or if it was a location provided by her employer, but it was nice. A small, white little house with blue curtains over the open windows. There was a small yard in the back, which he'd seen when he'd rounded the block in his Impala, and Dean wondered if they'd get to cuddle in there. The sun was high up in the sky, and it was warm enough that they wouldn't worry about being too cold.

He was still thinking about the weather, and whether it could affect where their session took place, when the door opened. Immediately slipping on a charming, albeit embarrassed, smile, Dean flickered his green eyes to the person who'd come to greet him, and his breath was knocked out of his chest. The first thing he noticed was the eyes - bluer than the sky could ever hope to be, and deeper than any ocean Dean'd ever seen. They crinkled at the corners as the man - the man - smiled at Dean, nothing but gentle kindness on his expression as he waited by the door. He was tall - not as tall as Dean, but still tall by society's standards - and lean, and Dean could see some of his muscles through the loose-fitted, barely opaque tunic he was wearing. He wore jeans tight enough to outline what he was packing out front, but Dean didn't let his eyes linger there, because suddenly he noticed the man was barefoot, and there seemed to be the begginings of an intricate tattoo around his left foot.

"Dean Winchester, right?"

Snapped out of his trance by the deep, grumbling voice, Dean's green eyes moved up to the other man's face, again. He was still smiling, and Dean just then realized that he'd been staring, and a blush crept up his cheeks, unvoluntarily. Gulping subtly, he gave a curt nod, praying to whoever was listening that the color in his cheeks faded before he saw Cassie. He wasn't sure he could keep himself from mumbling about her attractive... whoever he was, if he got relaxed enough.

"Uh, yeah. I'm here for, uh, Cassie?" Dean was awkward. He knew he was being awkward, but he hadn't come across a man he was attracted to in a long while; not since Benny, and that had been, what, four years ago? And even then, Dean had been too chicken-shit to do anything about it. He'd just let his crush fade into nothingness as he and Benny drifted apart, what with Dean moving from Kansas to New York, and all.

"Ah, yes. I see my brother hasn't lost his sense of humour." The attractive man (Dean thought it objectively, because he was attractive, and Dean had no other way to call him, in his head) stepped aside to let Dean into the house. The green-eyed man walked in, and under the man's gaze was quick to discard of his shoes. Once again, color filled his cheeks, but he paid it no mind, instead clearing his throat as he was led through to the living room. There was a soft mattress on the floor, and he could smell incense burning although he couldn't point out from where, and if it wasn't for how tense he felt in the other man's presence, Dean was sure he would've started relaxing right then and there. "Please, make yourself comfortable. I just have to go feed my fish and I'll be with you in a second."

Dean had already started making himself comfortableby sitting on the end of the mattress when the man's words caught up to him.

"You'll- what?" Springing up to his feet, Dean followed the direction he'd noticed the other man go. "Uh, dude, is Cassie not in? We had an appointment-" He stopped short when the man turned, his head tilted to a side, confused. Dean refused to think that the tilt was adorable, but he knew that, deep down, that's exactly the word he could use for it. Clearing his throat, and his mind of those thoughts, he tried again. "I mean, if she couldn't be here, I guess we could re-schedule..."

"Oh." There was so much behind that simple 'oh', but Dean couldn't figure out what it was. He just knew it from the way that comprehension seemed to wash over the man's expression and his smile, which had been always kind so far, turned apologetic. "I understand, now. I warned Gabriel that his little joke would cost us money, but he wouldn't listen," the man said calmly, before holding out a hand for Dean to shake. "Dean Winchester, my name's Castiel Novak. Or, as my brother likes to affectionately call me, Cassie."

Dean choked on his own breath, and it wasn't a pretty sight. He hadn't meant to, but the realization that the time he'd bought for cuddling, was to be spent with this attractive man, well... Dean had a hard time understanding how that'd happened. He sputtered, then began coughing violently, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as he did. He was sure the coughing would've been softer if he hadn't inhaled the smoke he had, the day before, but he couldn't help it. Besides, this couldn't be more embarrassing than Dean checking the guy out with his mouth open the way he had, when he'd opened the door.

When he felt like his cough had subsided, and that he could speak, Dean reached a hand to the back of his own head, awkwardly messing with some of his hair. "Uh, dude, I, uh..."

"I understand if this is... uncomfortable. I can wire you back your money, and help you purchase some time with one of my female colleagues, if you'd prefer. I believe Anna's available today, I can give her a ca--"

"No!" Dean wasn't sure what came over him, but the thought that he'd be missing his time with this very attractive man - Castiel, he chastized himself - just didn't sit well with him. Clearing his throat once again, blushing at how desperate he'd sounded when he interrupted Castiel, he smiled embarrassedly. "It's, uh. It's unexpected, but, uh, it should be fine. It's not like I'm paying you to fuck me, or something." Realizing what he said, his blush deepened. Dean was fairly sure Castiel's slightly amused expression didn't help. "I mean, uh, it's just cuddling. It's, uh. It's cool."

And that's how it began. After taking some time to himself by excusing himself to the bathroom, Dean was determined that things would be okay; that cuddling with Castiel wasn't going to destroy his manliness, and that he wouldn't pop a boner while at it, because, well, Dean had better self-control than that. He hadn't expected to enjoy his time as much as he did, and he couldn't deny that satisfying his need for that kind of affectionate touch - what with Castiel's hands gently carressing his arm as he held him close, Dean's ear pressed to his chest as he listened to the other man's gentle heartbeat - had definetely helped Dean feel a little better about himself than he had in a long while. So, when Castiel had asked if he would be seeing Dean again, the answer had been a no-brainer - "Of course, yeah. I'll have to check my time off, but, yeah. You can count on that."

Three months passed in the blink of an eye. Every week, Dean used his day off to spend a few hours with Castiel, who, overtime, grew even more affectionate with the man. They shared stories of their childhood to fill the silence, and one time Dean even cooked for them both while Castiel held him from behind and peered over his shoulder, since he didn't know how to do it himself. When Dean was in particularly bad shape, Castiel grabbed one of his soothing oils and gave him a massage, and when Dean could see in the lines around Castiel's eyes that he wasn't particularly happy, he'd ask if they could watch a comedy show he knew was bound to make him laugh, while cuddling on the couch.

It was inevitable, in that way, that Dean fell for his professional cuddlist.

He had ignored the feelings at first, had decided that no, they were not worth sharing because, what if Cas - because that was much less of a mouthful than Castiel, Dean argued with himself - thought he was strange? For certain, he had other clients who did things the way they did, and other customers who only trusted Castiel with all of their stupid, little secrets they couldn't bring themselves to tell even to their closest friends. Dean was just another customer, after all; someone else who paid to have a few hours of affection, before going back to the real world. Besides, Dean had told himself he wasn't going to ever be in a relationship ever again, for the sake of everyone involved. It would just end in disaster.

So, when Dean didn't make it to the session he'd booked because he'd been a little too reckless and gotten his leg broken during a rescuing in a burning building, he was surprised when one of the nurses in the hospital brought Castiel in to see him.

"Cas?"

“You missed our session.”

Dean stared at the blue-eyed man, quiet. He was aware he had missed it, but he didn’t think Castiel would care enough to find him. Maybe he was obligated to, because his time had been paid for; maybe his brother had told him he should find Dean and cuddle him anyway, just so they wouldn’t lose the money. Not that Dean intended to ask for his money back; he really didn’t care, since it wasn’t Castiel’s fault that Dean had landed himself in the hospital. He fully intended to let him know that, but, before he could, Castiel was speaking again.

“You idiot,” Castiel grumbled, moving closer to the bed before Dean could protest. Not that he would. “You got me all worried, you reckless jerk. Jumping into a burning building like that, just for some girl’s teddy bear? Do you value your own life that little?” The more he talked, the rougher Castiel’s voice sounded, and Dean realized, with astonishment, that his eyes betrayed his feelings as they filled with tears. He would say something, but fell quiet as Castiel climbed into the hospital bed and held Dean carefully, pulling him into the usual position they fell into when cuddling on Cas’s couch.

Dean was pretty much speechless. If he thought, so far, that Castiel had only come to find him to do his job, well, he knew now that he was wrong. The way his words had sounded, so pained and worried, and what he'd said, just ricocheted around Dean's mind, and he was completely lost at what to say. His first urge was to apologize, to tell the black-haired man that he hadn't been thinking, that he never did when a little kid was crying and begging him for something. But he had no reason to apologize, because he hadn't meant to hurt Cas in the first place; he didn't think he would be doing that. So what if he had died? It's not like people couldn't go on without him... Or so he'd thought.

"Cas..." Dean had no follow-up for that. He had nothing he could say or do, so he just did what he could - carefully, slowly, he reached for the blue-eyed man's hand and wrapped his own around it. He wasn't sure if he was scared Cas would pull away, or if he was too aware of the tubes and cords stuck to his arm, but he didn't dare do this any other way. Because he couldn't wrap his arms around the other man like he wanted to, but holding his hand felt like a good enough connection, for now. He squeezed the hand gently, letting his calloused fingers carress his skin, his thumb on Cas's wrist, tracing an invisible line there.

"You can't- I don't- Ugh." Dean could hear the frustration in Castiel's voice as he tried to speak, and gave his hand another soft squeeze, trying to give him some strength. He might be too lost to talk, but he wanted to hear what the other had to say; wanted to know exactly what this meant, even if he couldn't quite ask about it. "I know this is your job, Dean, but you can't just put everyone else above you... I-- What would I have done if you had died, hm? I never would've gotten the chance to tell you how I feel, and then what? I'd live with that regret for so long, I'd probably end up drinking myself to death. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?"

It seemed like a bell went off as soon as he heard those words, and Dean couldn't stop himself from shifting his head so he was staring up at Castiel, instead. There were still remains of tears on his cheeks, and his eyes were still red from crying, even though Dean had thought that Cas had been able to hold it back. He could see the worry on his expression, the wariness in his eyes as they looked back down at Dean. He wasn't sure whether Cas felt that way because of what he'd just confessed (kind of, not really, but Dean got the message alright) or if he was still wondering about possibly hearing through the grapevine that Dean was dead. Either way, this was no time to stay quiet, and after clearing his throat, Dean knew he had to say something.

"Did you know your eyes are, like, stupid, crazy blue? I don't think I've ever seen anything like it." So, maybe that's not what Dean had planned to say, but it wasn't true, nonetheless. "First thing I noticed about you, actually. That, and how they matched that stupidly thin shirt, dress, thingy you were wearing when you opened the door for me." Looking down, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks at the admission, Dean focused his gaze on their hands as he felt Castiel interlock their fingers. Their hands weren't a perfect fit, but they made it work. "Look, Cas, I'm not good with... this. With words and feelings and all that. But, uh. You should really tell me how you feel so I can say 'me too' and we can kiss or something. 'Cause I've been trying not to do that for, like, months, and I don't wanna screw it up on a whim."

Although he was sure that wasn't the best declaration of interest (love?) that had ever been made, Dean smiled as he felt a bubble of soft laughter rumble through Cas's chest. His head was still laid there, his ear pressed against his heartbeat point, and Dean could say he felt calmer than he ever would, in a situation like this. Asking out Lisa, in high school, had taken a big cup of tea and a lot of training in front of the mirror. Sure, Dean was confident, and picking up strangers at a bar came easy to him, but he'd buried his emotions so deep down his chest, that digging them out took a lot more effort than he was ever willing to make, and it always threw him off balance. Right now, though, he knew he was nervous and there was a jitter in his stomach, but he also felt relaxed; he was simply nervous about what Castiel would say next, not about having exposed himself to such vulnerability.

"You'd never be able to." The green-eyed man could hear the smile in Castiel's voice, its soft tone showing nothing but affection, and it made him look up. Cas' eyes looked brighter already, as if Dean had shone a flashlight at him with his words, and he felt rather than saw the other man drag their hands up so he could carress Dean's cheek, without letting go of him. "You are a beautiful man, Dean Winchester. Inside and out, I hope you know that. Having gotten to know you has been the most amazing adventure of my life, and there is nothing you could do that'd 'screw it up', as you put it. I wish the situation was different, I had planned to tell you all these things in a much more comfortable location, but it is what it is, and even this couldn't change the way I've fallen for you."

Through the hospital room, the heartrate monitor could be heard beeping louder, but Dean wasn't paying attention to it. For so many years, he'd denied himself the affection others wanted to give; he'd denied himself of happiness, because he thought himself unworthy, he thought he'd bring nothing but damage to people's lives. Yet, he'd known Castiel for three months, and nothing bad had come out of it; while they didn't always agree, they were respectable of each other's opinions; when they weren't okay, they allowed the other to help them become better; and when they were happy, there was nothing that would stop them from sharing that happiness. Dean realized, now, that those are all things that founded a good relationship, and, while he'd thought before that Castiel was only doing his job, he knew now that it wasn't the case; he could see it in his eyes, just how special he thought Dean was. And, strangely enough, he accepted it. He'd denied himself of that kind of attention for so long, but now that he was seeing it, firsthand, he welcomed it with open arms.

"Yeah, uh. Me too."

Another laugh rolled out of Cas's lips, and Dean found himself grinning right back. Despite the circumstances they were in, and how long he'd taken them to come clean about their feelings, Dean was happy with how things were. And the only thing that would only make this moment more perfect was if they sealed this conversation with a kiss. Of course, Castiel seemed to have the same thought, as he gently leaned down and captured Dean's lips in his. Behind Dean, the heartrate monitor spiked as his heart combusted with happiness, and he chuckled lightly at it as he closed his eyes and lost himself in the feeling of Castiel's lips against his. They were chapped, and not as plump as Dean's own, but they slotted perfectly against his and sent sparks all the way down his spine, even if they kept the kiss light and PG, for both theirs and the hospital staff's sake.

"You reckless idiot!"

Pulling back from the mind-numbing, surprisingly soft kiss he'd been experiencing, Dean turned his head to watch his giant of a brother walk into the hospital room. His hair was a mess, possibly from running around the hallway till he found Dean's room, and his mouth set in a slight pout, but his eyes had grown wide with surprise and curiosity at the moment he'd walked in on. Dean knew he should feel nervous, because Sammy had never known about Dean's interest in men, but he found that he only found amusing how much Sam looked like a moose caught in headlights. Unable to hold it back, he let himself chuckle, shaking slightly against Castiel's frame as he laughed softly at his brother's expression. Castiel, himself, seemed just as I amused, although better controlled, and not even the slightest bit scared as he nodded at Sam's words.

"Well. That's what I said, too."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The first rule of professional cuddling is to never get attached."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After I was left some lovely comments (thank you very much, themthere_taterthings for the idea!), I thought I'd try to give you a little bit of what goes on in Castiel's head... I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

The first rule of professional cuddling is to never get attached.

When Castiel first heard of professional cuddling, he'd just gotten home from yet another failed date with a woman who'd told him he was much too emotionless to ever find someone to love. He'd been taken aback by the comment, as he had been nothing but nice to the lady (even when she was rude to the poor waitress who'd had to serve them at the restaurant of Castiel's choice), but was not particularly broken up about their date ending as terribly as he did. He was upset, of course, but only because he was fairly sure that she was right - Castiel had never once felt romantically invested in someone, not the way other people were. He liked affection, enjoyed giving it, but his heart was always guarded, never out there for people to grab and squeeze and destroy at their will, when trying to love him. No, Castiel had never allowed himself to feel too deep, not since his father had first disappeared from his family's lives, and soon enough that was the default setting to Castiel's emotions - not feeling them at all.

For some odd reason Castiel has yet to decipher (to this day, he's still not sure if he wasn't drunk, or at least a little bit high when he made his decision), he decided to go to his big brother for advice. Now, most younger siblings looked up to their brothers, and Castiel was no different; through thick and thin, the two boys had been together and held each other in times of need. Still, Castiel was sure that, if there was anyone who'd be as unhelpful as they come, it would be Gabriel. Despite successfully running his own business and having a loving wife, Gabriel had always been a child at heart. Deep conversations about Castiel thinking he's too messed up by their past to ever love someone was way out of the realm of things Gabriel could handle, but Castiel found himself spilling it all to him anyway. He didn't get any comfort about his thoughts or his feelings (or lack thereof), but he did gain something from that conversation - a job.

Working under his brother's employment could be weird at times, he admitted (especially when people started trying to pay Gabriel for a little 'extra' with the cuddling sessions), but it had yet to prove to his decision having beeen a bad one. Sometimes, Castiel thought he was done, but his anger didn't last long. Just like when he first had a session with a certain freckle-faced firefighter, and had had to call and yell at Gabriel to lay onto him that his little joke with his nickname had almost landed them with an unhappy costumer. Of course, he'd had to admit that said costumer had still made use of his hours of cuddling and had promised to return, so, really, his rant went by ignored as Gabriel droned on about how he knew Castiel's charm would just win anyone over, anyway.

Castiel hadn't honestly expected to see Dean Winchester again.

Not that Castiel wanted to call Dean a liar (he had, after all, said he would return), but he thought more that Dean was just trying to be friendly enough not to burst Castiel's bubble. In that first session, the cuddling had done as much for Castiel as it had for Dean, surprisingly. Usually, the sessions were enough to sate his craving for affection, but it had been different, that day. Looking into those bright green eyes had been enough to open the dam around his heart, and suddenly it was like every inch of his body thrummed with content when he'd held Dean close. It was the first time Castiel had felt such electricity when touching someone, but he hadn't gone to his brother, this time; he couldn't bear to think that Gabriel might find that unprofessional and forbid Dean from booking any more sessions with Castiel. He was, after all, his boss.

Therefore, the sessions continued.

Once, every week (sometimes twice, if Dean had a particularly hard time at work), Castiel and Dean found themselves tangled in each other's long limbs, either in front of a TV or outside in Castiel's back yard, eyes closed to avoid the sting of the sun down on their irises. Castiel loved especially the times when they could lay down in the grass, Dean's head on his chest as he laughed at one of Castiel's stories about his big brother's pranks, when they were younger. Whenever they did look at each other, Castiel felt his breath escape him in a soft gasp because the sun did a beautiful work bringing out the multitude of freckles splattered across Dean's face like paint, and turned the other man's eyes a green so unique that Castiel was sure it didn't have a proper name, yet. It was alarming, the way those thoughts snuck up on him out of nowhere, but as soon as they plunged themselves in his brain, he could never get rid of them. More often than not, he could feel them slipping down his head to warm his chest, or, on particularly cold nights, a whole other part of him, much further down. He knew he shouldn't act upon these feelings (Could they be _that_?) but Castiel's resolve was weak, and he found himself falling faster and deeper than he'd thought was possible, for him, with nothing to hold him back and stop him from plunging down to the mysterious wave of an ocean he hadn't braved, before.

He had no intention to let his brother know, not before he even talked to Dean about things, but he knew the moment he called, Gabriel would understand. Daft and childish as his big brother was, he knew what love was from the moment he'd laid eyes on Kali, and Castiel had no doubt he'd recognize the signs.

"Something's wrong, Gabe." That's the line Castiel had chosen to open the call with, as soon as he was sure Gabriel had picked up. It's been half an hour of Dean not showing up to the session he'd booked directly with Castiel, the last time they'd seen each other, and he could feel the coldness of fear gripping at his bones, even making his voice tremble. "Dean was supposed to be here half an hour ago, he would let me know if he wasn't going to show up. Something must've happened! He's a firefighter, Gabriel! He could be dying right now. Oh God. He could be-" Castiel never got to finish. He couldn't, not when his throat closed up and all that came out was a terrified sob. Dean could be dead. He could have died saving a cat from a tree, or an old lady from a building falling apart around them, or just driving around in his stupidly gorgeous car, or- 

"Jeez, Cassie. You're in deep, huh, bro? Calm down, let me look up some stuff."

So, Gabriel knew. And Castiel couldn't, honest to God, be worried about that. Not when his head was conjuring up images of a bloodied Dean Winchester, gasping for air, dying.

"Alright, okay, Cassie, breathe for me. He's alive, okay?" Gabriel sounded more like the big brother that'd held Castiel through his nightmares than he had in years, and if his words hadn't been so important, Castiel was sure that tone would've been enough to soothe him. "He's at the hospital, but it's just a broken leg and a few scraps. From what I'm reading, he tried to go back to get some girl's teddy bear, and the floor gave in on him. Take the guy some flowers, and smooch the hell out of him, little bro. And a little word of advice - don't try to get frisky on those silly hospital beds. You'll fall on your ass."

The whole ride to the hospital, Castiel tried different words to tell Dean how he felt; to justify him finding out what happened, and finding him just because he'd felt so worried. "Hey, so, I've never been in love before but I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you, so that's that. Wanna not die, maybe?" Or maybe even, "I've got so many daddy issues I started to imagine you dead five minutes after you were supposed to show up." Castiel wasn't sure if telling the truth was even a good idea, and if he got there and just saw Dean too hurt, he knew he'd have to come up with a lie as to why he was seeing him, but he couldn't even come up with one as his heart rushed in his chest just thinking about Dean.

As soon as his car was parked and locked, Castiel couldn't help running to the front desk of the hospital, immediately receiving a sympathetic smile from the nurse sitting behind it. She probably saw dozens of people in distress over their hurt loved ones, every day; Castiel counted on that, hoped that his disarray hair and wrinkled clothing was enough to lure her into answering his question, even though he had no direct relation to the firefighter he so desperately needed to see.

"I'm- I need to see a Dean Winchester? He's a firefighter, was admited because-"

"Easy, sweetheart. I know which Dean you're talking about, it's okay," she interrupted his rant quickly, a sweet smile on her lips as she tapped some keys on her computer. "Alright, he's on room 304. Just take the elevator up to the third floor, then-" She huffed out a little laugh, sentence unfinished as she watched the blue-eyed man practically fly to the elevator.

Castiel felt bad about not thanking the nurse, but he had no time; his worry wouldn't be eased until his eyes were upon Dean, and he couldn't handle the way his heart was beating so unsteadily, almost as if it was trying to outrun the rest of his body on his journey to Dean's hospital room. Thankfully, by some kind of miracle, Castiel reached the elevator before its doors closed, and slipped inside with ease. He tapped his foot on the way up, running a hand through his hair every two seconds, no doubt annoying the doctor who was travelling with him. He was barely able to mumble out a feeble apology before he was flying through the doors as they opened on the third floor.

"Three-oh-four, Three-oh-four..." Castiel groaned in frustration as he couldn't find a sign anywhere, indicating the direction he should take. He knew he was possibly just looking too hastily, but he was desperate and frustrated, and he needed to see Dean.

He needed to see he was okay.

"Sir, are you okay?"

Castiel turned quickly to face the owner of the soft voice calling for him, relief flooding as he found a nurse with a kind glint in her eyes. He wanted nothing less than to be a burden to anymore hospital staff (surely, they'd end up prohibiting him from ever entering the facilities again, after the stunts he'd already pulled) but he couldn't help but to explain where he needed to be, and how he had absolutely no idea how to get there. He tried to phrase his sentence as kindly as possible, using as many "please" and "thank you"s as he could when he asked for the help, and it seemed to work just fine. Before long, the kind nurse (Tessa, her name-tag read) was leading him to the room he seeked. A little slower than he wanted, sure, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Cas?"

God, his voice. Dean's voice was gruffier than usual, most likely from smoke inhalation, yet it was still the most beautiful sound Castiel had ever heard. He barely noticed Tessa gently push him into the actual room before leaving, his blue eyes focused on the man laying on that tiny hospital bed. Was it even safe for him to be laying in such a weak structure? God, his leg looked mighty uncomfortable, all wrapped up and lifted the way it was, and-

He realized he hadn't yet said a word, and swallowed back a lump in his throat, quickly.

"You missed our session."

Brilliant, ten out of ten, best opening statement for a love declaration in the entire world. Castiel chastized himself in his mind, despising his lack of social skills not for the first time, that day. He had to fix it, and soon, because Dean looked confused beyond belief, and, well, they couldn't have that.

"You idiot," he followed up with, barely taking a moment to think that insulting the object of his affection was probably not the way to go about this whole thing, either. His head was too much of a mess, he could barely notice his feet moving until he was standing right next to the fray hospital bed Dean was on. “You got me all worried, you reckless jerk. Jumping into a burning building like that, just for some girl’s teddy bear? Do you value your own life that little?"

There were a million things Castiel wanted to say to Dean, in that moment. Watching the way his eyes widened, he wanted to comfort him and tell him just how much he loved his bravery, and that he thought the fact he'd gone back for that was adorable, even if stupid. He wanted to beg him not to do it again, even though he was sure Dean wouldn't listen because, well, he was a firefighter after all, wasn't he? He wanted to craddle his face in his palms and kiss him until he was all better, until his voice didn't sound like he'd lost a fight with the common flu, and his leg didn't look like it'd been maimed, for how much of it was wrapped up and secured tightly. But Castiel had no words, only tears brimming and a need to touch Dean, to hold him in his arms, that led him to climb onto the hospital bed with him and do just that, even if he knew it wasn't advised.

"Cas..."

Castiel trembled a little as he heard Dean call his name so softly. He was crying, he couldn't help it; not after he'd thought he'd lost the man he'd fallen in love with, the first person to ever break the walls around his heart and claim it in his gentle touch. He knew that, now, he was vulnerable to his rejection, to his words, but, God help him, he couldn't give a damn. Not when he had Dean so carefully in his arms and-

Dean was holding his hand.

"You can't- I don't- Ugh." Castiel wasn't sure what he had wanted to say, but the weight of Dean's hand in his was grounding. He exhaled slowly, eyes shut tightly as he burried his head on top of the other male's. He was drawing strength from him, from his touch and the way his hair tickled his nose, and how odd was that, when Dean was the one hospitalized? Taking another deep breath, he pulled back his head, still out of Dean's sight, so he could speak clearly. "I know this is your job, Dean, but you can't just put everyone else above you... I--" Castiel paused. This was his chance, wasn't it? There was no better way to tell Dean, not now. He had to man up and just do it. "What would I have done if you had died, hm? I never would've gotten the chance to tell you how I feel, and then what? I'd live with that regret for so long, I'd probably end up drinking myself to death. I'm sure you wouldn't want that, would you?"

Okay, so, maybe he could've chosen better words. Maybe he shouldn't have put the blame on Dean, even if he really didn't mean to, and should've stuck with the usual "I'm in love with you, please don't die on me" that he'd tried in his head, before. He couldn't find himself to regret his words, however; not when Dean looked at him the way he did, green eyes more alive than Castiel had ever seen them, and oh God, Castiel really was gone on this guy. This quirky, nerdy firefighter who always knew when to make him laugh, and always smiled when Castiel tried to tell a joke (he'd never had a knack for jokes, he'd been told), and who had the utmost patience with him when asked if they could cook together, because it would help their connection (Castiel had never in his life cooked with any of his clients, but he didn't tell Dean that, in fear he'd reject the idea).

"Did you know your eyes are, like, stupid, crazy blue? I don't think I've ever seen anything like it. First thing I noticed about you, actually. That, and how they matched that stupidly thin shirt, dress, thingy you were wearing when you opened the door for me," Dean told him, and Castiel's heart soared. He wasn't rejecting him. This might all mean nothing, but at least Dean hadn't pulled back in disgust. Actually, Castiel could see a blush form on his cheeks as he looked down at their hands; it was very endearing. "Look, Cas, I'm not good with... this. With words and feelings and all that. But, uh. You should really tell me how you feel so I can say 'me too' and we can kiss or something. 'Cause I've been trying not to do that for, like, months, and I don't wanna screw it up on a whim."

Oh.

_Oh._

Castiel felt the smile tugging at his lips, and, for the first time since he was a young child, he didn't hold it back. Dean's wording of his feelings was, if possible, even worse than Castiel's, but he'd said it all the same. Not directly, not clearly, but the idea was there, and Castiel felt like he was floating just thinking about it. Of course, it would do well to reassure Dean that he couldn't mess up anything, because, well, Castiel was foolishly, really in love with him at this point.

Yeah, that was a good place to start.

"You'd never be able to," he spoke softly, his eyes finding Dean's as he looked back up at him. On an urge, he lifted their hands to his (his?) firefighter's face, feeling the softness of it as he revelled in his luck - to have such a handsome man, inside and out, in his arms? Oh, he really felt, as his brother would certainly put it when he found out, like a lucky bastard. "You are a beautiful man, Dean Winchester. Inside and out, I hope you know that," Castiel felt the need to remind Dean of that, let him know that; from what he'd come to know, Dean didn't value himself much. "Having gotten to know you has been the most amazing adventure of my life, and there is nothing you could do that'd 'screw it up', as you put it. I wish the situation was different, I had planned to tell you all these things in a much more comfortable location, but it is what it is, and even this couldn't change the way I've fallen for you."

Okay, so maybe Castiel had told a little white lie. He hadn't actually made any plans for anything, as much as he had hoped the situation would present itself one day. Leaving these things to circumstance probably wasn't his brightest idea, but it didn't matter now, anyway. All that was important was the way Dean's eyes were lit up with happiness, his lips quirked into a little smile of their own, and his soft, endearingly awkward reply:

"Yeah, uh. Me too."

Castiel couldn't help laughing, but he knew Dean could see he wasn't laughing at him. Castiel was simply too happy, like he had never been before, and it felt good; being this carefree felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before, and he owed it all to Dean. Dean Winchester, kitty-saving, reckless firefighter; amazing cuddler and cook, expert in all things nerdy; loving and caring, even if hot-headed... Yeah, this was the man Castiel had fallen for, and he couldn't be happier. Leaning down, he let his eyes bore into Dean's until their lips met, and then lost himself in the sensation of their kiss. He kept it sweet and gentle, as he could already hear Dean's heart rate monitor go crazy as his heart sped up, and didn't want to make it worse. Besides, Castiel was good with this - maybe if they were slow and soft with each other, they could keep kissing for longer.

Of course, his dream was shattered when a voice boomed through the room.

"You reckless idiot!"

Pulling back from his firefighter's plump lips, Castiel turned to look at the new-comer. Tall, with his rather long hair going in all directions at this point (possibly from running, just like Castiel had done earlier), and shock written all over his features... This must be Sam, then.

"Well. That's what I said, too."


End file.
